


Bringing It Home

by tuukkasrask



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: 2014 MLB season, Jealousy, M/M, MLB, Texas Rangers, Toronto Blue Jays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-13
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-17 17:20:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3537686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuukkasrask/pseuds/tuukkasrask
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in the 2014 season where the Rangers snap their 8 game losing streak against the Toronto Blue Jays, thanks to J.P. Arencibia, the former Blue Jay himself.</p><p>Brett misses JP and JP misses Brett, so they get together and make up for lost time,</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bringing It Home

**Author's Note:**

> i actually started this fic a LONG time ago (obviously, the game took place in like, freaking July of 2014), and i finally forced myself to finish it so i can move on to other things. anyways, please enjoy and know that the contents of this fic are entirely fictional, as far as i know! :-)
> 
> oh, and if you want to visit me on tumblr, you can find me at twinksegs.tumblr.com. :)

The Texas Rangers were riding high after their first win in eight games, against Toronto, a somewhat bittersweet accomplishment for JP Arencibia. He got a hold of Dickey's pitch and smashed one over the wall into left field, a three run homer that would send Smolinski and Leonys home and give the Rangers a 5-0 lead over his old team. As he rounded the bases, he kept his eyes low and averted, especially rounding third near the dug out that was still familiar to him for fear of meeting eyes with his old teammates.

He missed them. Not that JP wanted to leave Texas-- he wasn't one to shy away from trials and tribulations. He wanted to be able to compete with the best and fight for his place in the team, and as a team, in the division. But he wasn't going to lie, this season was downright rough. Being sent down to the minors was never pleasant, caused his confidence to falter a little. And sometimes he dreamt of waking up, still in Toronto. Dreamt of heading to training and joking around with Ricky or Bautista in the clubhouse. Most of all, spending time with Brett.

He missed Brett the most. He missed all the domestic aspects of their relationship, staying over at each other's places, going to the supermarket together, shopping together, making breakfast together. Brett's warm, brazen smile, his strong body beside his on the couch as they watched movies or played video games, the way he shouted "launch mode" at almost everyone's at bat, and his cheeks, oh god, his cheeks. JP missed the little things, sure, but then there was the romantic, intimate moments they shared. Loving Brett was so easy, so simple. It seemed as though there was no demand when he was with him, no pressure, no stress. Brett made JP feel so free. The first time the younger man had kissed him, there were no butterflies, no stomach-tied-in-knots feeling. It was perfect, simple, beautiful. Relieving, even. When JP became a free agent and was shipped down to Texas, it was so hard to let go of something so incredible, but unfortunately, it was a sacrifice that had to be made.

The Jays managed to pull one back, but in the end the score stood at 5-1 and the Rangers could finally tuck a W under their belt. It felt good to win for once.

While JP toweled off after his shower and gathered all his things at his locker, he half expected the text from Brett that lit up his phone.

_Wanna meet down town? Haven't seen u in awhile_

His stomach flipped nervously, which was strange, as he tapped out a reply to his old teammate.

_Yeah, tell me where and i'll be there_

Almost immediately, Brett responded.

_Don't ride the bus, meet me in the parking lot_

JP threw together his gear, buzzing with energy after that message, answered a couple questions from the media about his clutch hit against his old team, and quickly navigated out of the visitor changing room to find Brett in the parking lot outside Rogers Centre. As he stood by a light pole, eyes scanning the sea of vehicles for Brett's car, he wondered how going out would work, considering he didn't really want to hit the bars in a t shirt and shorts. He had a change of nicer clothes in his bag, so maybe he'd find somewhere to put them on in before they headed out.

In his peripheral vision, incandescent car head lights blinked, lighting up the lot around him for a moment. JP turned his head and spotted Brett wave him over from across the lot before dropping into the driver's side of his Audi and firing the ignition. JP hurried to the car, shouldering his bag and approached the passenger side. He climbed in, throwing his bag in the back seat then facing Brett, eyeing him as he fiddled with the radio.

"Hey."

Brett looked up at him, turning the volume down just enough so that they could hear each other fine, and smiled. "Hey yourself,"

For some reason, JP felt a little awkward. It had been several months since he'd seen Brett. They texted, called occassionally, even Skyped once, but that was about the extension of their communcation, and none of it included the physicality or "romance" their relationship consisted of when they were together in Toronto. Not to mention, JP was married now. But despite that, he couldn't supress the urge to kiss like they used to. He didn't know if Brett was still up for that.

The third basemen was gnawing on his lip with his perfect teeth, studying JP's face with an odd, unreadable look before shifting the car into drive and maneuvering out of the aprking lot. They drove away from the stadium, and JP nudged Brett's arm with his elbow.

"I kinda need to change." he said.

Brett looked at him for a moment before glancing back at the road. "Just change in here. Take your seatbelt off, it doesn't matter."

Shrugging, JP unfastened his seatbelt and reached for his bag, careful not to bump Brett while he rummaged through it for his button down and jeans. He shoved the bag back into the seat and pushed his clothes onto the dash, pulling his Texas Rangers practice shirt over his head. He wondered if Brett was looking, checking him out, so he dared to steal a look at him while he slipped his arms through his plaid button down. Brett couldn't hide the small smile on his face at the fact that JP had caught him, and he adjusted his grip on the steering wheel.

"Looks like you've bulked up a bit, eh?" he commented, eyes scanning over the exposed parts of his chest while he had the chance.

JP fussed with the buttons, smoothed his shirt, and reached for his jeans. "I've been working out a little more, yeah." he smiled, wriggling out of his shorts.

"I can tell," Brett murmured, eyes squinting at the road as he turned down a vibrant, lit up street.

JP tugged his jeans on, hips arching up from the seat as he wrestled into them, his big catcher butt causing some issues. However, he was dressed and had his shoes tied by the time Brett parked across the street from a cocktail bar that was achingly familiar (he vaguely recalled getting pretty wasted and loved down real good once they went home). They got out and walked in to the cozy place, grabbing a table in the back and waiting for the barkeep to take their orders. Brett ordered a Molson, and JP asked for the same, then turned his attention back to the third basemen.

Brett was silent for a moment, thumb and index finger toying with the salt shaker in the center of the table. He was biting his lip again, looking like he was debating on a lot of things to say, trying to feel out which was most appropriate. JP just wished he'd talk to him already.

"That was a great hit," Brett said finally, clearly playing it safe, out of all the things JP knew he had on his mind. "Went launch mode for sure,"

"Yeah, it was," JP agreed. "I really needed it. Unfortunately it was against you guys, but it was great,"

Brett was nodding, had pushed the salt shaker aside when the barkeep brought their beers, and leaned back into the seat, doing that thing he always does with his fingers.  
"You're married now."

JP felt his stomach drop to his feet as he looked into Brett's eyes.

"I am,"

The younger man braced his elbows on the table and took a pull from the bottle. "How does that work out for you guys? She's touring, you're doing your baseball thing," Brett queried, a bit of an unintentional bite to his tone. "Always on the road and all,"  
JP shrugged, sipping his Molson carefully. "We make it work."

"Good, I guess."

It was obvious that Brett didn't want to discuss JP's marriage, and quite honestly, he really didn't want to talk about Kim either. It made him feel a little guilty, even more so that he'd rather be sucking Brett's face than rehash their wedding and how living with her was, but he missed his old teammate so much. About three beers in and the tension drained away a bit, and JP and Brett were talking much more casually. They discussed how their teams were doing, and especially how Brett was dealing with his broken finger and his recent back problems, to which he replied with something about "healing" and "doing work, so I can come back and go launch mode". He was such a typical white boy sometimes.

Brett's beautiful, smiley cheeks were painted with blush as he finished off his fourth Molson, and he was looking at JP with those glittering, blue eyes that he knew all too well.

"I want something a little stronger before we leave," he said, pushing the bottle to the rest that were at the edge of the table.

"Shots?" JP asked.

"No, just a mixed drink." Brett purred, wrenching around and waving down the bartender.

"Lemme get two of the Sex on the Beach special,"

JP looked at Brett accusingly. "I don't--"

"Shhhhh, you're drinking it, Jonny," Brett insisted, smushing his finger against JP's lips in an attempt to silence him. "Make it strong!"

Honesly, JP couldn't complain. He knew he was in the right when Brett started calling him Jonny. Not many people called him that, so it was kind of special whenever Brett utilized it as some sort of endearing, pet name for him. Once the drinks arrived, they nursed down the pretty, sunset-hued vodka-juice combo and decided to hit the road and go back to Brett's place.

"Who do you room with?" Brett slurred, driving carefully down the road towards his apartment.

JP had undone the buttons of his flannel upon settling in the car and rested his forearm out of the open window. "Sometimes Rosales, sometimes Adduci."

"Adduci, good ol' Canadian boy," Brett remarked, then turned to look at Brett with a lopsided grin. "Does he suck your dick?"

Despite how sloshed JP was, the question struck him as weird, crazy even. He shook his head at Brett, making a face of exasperation.

"No one sucks me off, Brett."

Brett nodded for some reason and turned down the block, getting closer to his place. "Good, let's keep it that way,"

They parked outside the building and made their way carefully up the stairs. JP hadn't bothered to bring his bag up with him, knowing he could just borrow Brett's clothes. It smelled anyway.

The younger guy unlocked his apartment and pulled JP into the familiar space by the hand. He took a deep breath while Brett shut and locked the door behind them and raked his eyes across the room. The kitchen to the left looked the same it did last season, with the Magic Bullet plugged into the wall on the counter beside the refrigerator, and Brett's protein powders, vitamins, and Muscle Milk crap lined up on the bar. Brett's shoes that he wore just to go to the store or to go check the mail were by the door. The thick quilt they two of them had bundled up in plenty of times was still thrown over the back of the leather couch.

One thing that was new was a turn-table, DJ-ing kind of thing that was tucked into the corner beside the entertainment center. JP remembered how much Brett loved mixing his own music, especially for his walk up songs. It was rare that he picked an actual song that hadn't been remixed or mashed up with another song. He thought it was cool though, and always loved listening to the new things that Brett had thrown together.

As JP studied the room, Brett toed his shoes off and kicked them out of the way, then turned and faced him with his hands on his hips.

"Dude."

JP met eyes with him curiously. "What is it?"

He sighed, then opened his arms. "Fucking come here, man,"

Brett dragged him close into a warm, strong hug. Wrapping his arms around Brett's middle, JP gripped his shirt tightly with his fingers and buried his face in his shoulder, inhaling his deep cologne.

"Fucking missed you, Jonny," the infielder whispered by his ear. "so much,"

JP pulled back, arms still around him as he stared into his bright eyes. "I missed you too, Brett."

Brett's hands were kneading at the back of his neck while they studied each other's faces. "Hate that you had to leave,"

Nodding, JP leaned a little closer, hoping Brett would catch on. "Hate not having you around,"

Making a little noise in the back of his throat, Brett leaned in, brushing his nose against JP's before kissing his lips tenderly. JP kissed back immediately. He'd been craving this the moment they pulled up to the cocktail bar-- no, the moment Brett waved him down in the parking lot. He'd missed this so much, kissing and loving Brett, almost more than Blue Jays baseball.

Brett made better use of his hands by sliding JP's flannel off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor before detaching himself from the catcher and removing his own shirt. JP reached in between them while they hungrily engulfed each other's lips to fumble with Brett's belt, pushing him in the direction of the hallway that led to his room. They stumbled a couple of times, but finally JP was pressing Brett into his king-sized mattress, yanking his jeans off of his thick thighs and kissing him firmly.

Slipping his thigh in between JP's, Brett bucked up against him, groaning a little at the friction. He gripped the older guy's hips, unbuttoning his pants and nudging them down, urging him to take them off. JP kissed his jaw sloppily before drawing himself up from the bed and kicking out of his jeans. In no time, he was back in his place, looming over his old teammate and rubbing over the bulge in his briefs.

"Fuck, Jonny," Brett breathed, lifting his hips up, eager for more. "Please,"

JP pushed his hips down, straddling Brett's built thighs and rolling his hips into Brett's hard-on. He gripped the soft, silken sheets on Brett's bed, grunting and breathing becoming quite labored as he thrusted against his old teammate and drew the most sensual noises from him. He cursed, pausing his movements to bend down and kiss at Brett's stomach. He tongued at the corded, taut muscle and kissed every inch he could, slowing making his way down to where he knew Brett wanted him most.

With a little glance up at Brett, JP lowered his lips to the soft skin just above the waist band of his Calvin Klein trunks. Brett was groaning, propped up on his elbows so he could watch the catcher dip his hand into his underwear and grasp his dick.

"Jesus," Brett hissed, unintentionally shoving his hips into JP's hand. "Go, go, go,"

JP worked his shaft, refamiliarizing himself with it before retracting his hand to tug Brett's trunks out of the way. "Here, move,"

Urging Brett to turn his body and move up the bed into the pillows, JP followed and sprawled out on his stomach between Brett's magnificent, muscular thighs. Jesus, they were unreal. He curled his arms around them, nuzzling the soft skin of his groin and biting down just hard enough to leave a rosy mark.

"Do something," the younger man gritted out, wriggling beneath JP and trying to draw attention to his hard, aching dick.

"I've got you, B,"

It had been a long time, actually not since JP was in Toronto with Brett before he was sent to Texas, since he'd last sucked dick, but he took it in stride and started off slow, encircling his lips around Brett's head and curling his fingers around his shaft. Brett was so easy to please, or maybe just really sensitive, JP had never figured out which it was, because from just mouthing around him and jerking his base, Brett sounded so fucking wrecked. He had his hands in his hair, groaning and gasping for breath and begging for it.

  
"'ve fucking missed this," Brett said, then cried out sharply when JP made the steal, removing his hand and bobbing his head nearly all the way, sucking him down. "Jonny, oh my /god/,"

JP molded his hands into the cut of muscle carved along his hips and held him down, hollowing his cheeks and tonguing mercilessly around Brett's dick. He hummed around it, pulled off and worked at the underside with little sloppy kisses and spitty, wet licks that had Brett shaking in his own skin. He could feel how hard he was himself, pressed uncomfortably against the bed and still trapped down by his Lululemon briefs, so he figured now it was time to bring it home.

Licking up Brett's shaft and taking him into his mouth once more, he stuffed his own hand down the front of his underwear and started stroking himself with purpose.

"Fuck, yeah," Brett breathed, petting the back of JP's neck and shoulders roughly with his big, calloused hands. "So close, Jonny, don't you stop,"

In little to no time at all, it was like Brett was being exorcised-- moaning and writhing and gasping and arching so hard off the bed as he came in JP's mouth. JP bobbed his head through it, rolling one of Brett's nipples between the fingers of his free hand while he jerked off with his other. After he swallowed he scooted up to his knees, the tops of his thighs pressing against the back of Brett's as he shoved his briefs down and proceeded to finish himself.

"Come on, Jonny, come on," Brett egged him on, hooking an ankle around JP's waist and reaching up to rub all over JP's chest. "Fucking cum, Jonny,"

  
And just like that, twisting his wrist one last time, JP let out a yell and spurted all over Brett's tight abs and broad chest, the winged cross tattoo right on his left pec, then collapsed, half on the bed and half on Brett in a tangle of sweaty, disgusting, and sticky limbs.

The silence was heavy as they just laid their in each other's presence, savoring it while it lasted, knowing the inevitable was indeed inevitable; JP would have to shower up again and get dressed, and they'd say goodbye and maybe even kiss one last time before JP left and found his way back to the hotel his team was staying in. And it would be months on months before they would hear from each other or see each other again, a routine that was nowhere near as good as what they used to have, but it could work because they were willing. Brett just hoped he could at least get his old teammate to stay for a little while, at least til the morning.

"'m not going anywhere," JP muttered against Brett's thick bicep, curving his arm around his waist and snuggling into him.

"Go to sleep. I'll wake you up in the morning," Brett told him, kissing the top of his head.

And he meant it, because while he was realistic, he was going to enjoy this moment as long as he could before it was time for JP to go home.


End file.
